


Dog Pound

by dollylux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animal Instincts, Episode: s09e05 Dog Dean Afternoon, Kinda, M/M, Mating Bites, Puppy Play, References to Knotting, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: Dog's gonna hunt.





	Dog Pound

“Dean?”

The sound registers, but the word doesn’t. Dean can feel the smooth, short tips of his fingernails dragging over the side of his neck, an absent motion, but it feels good. Really, really good.

His leg knee bounces a little.

“Dean.”

He grunts, his eyebrows quirking as he glances over at Sam who’s on his laptop at the tiny table near the window while Colonel sleeps peacefully at his feet.

“You should stop.”

Dean’s eyebrows drop down, his mouth pursed. Sam looks the kind of amused that could edge too easily into annoyance.

“The scratching. Your neck’s all red.”

“Oh,” Dean mumbles, lowering his hand and tucking it obediently in his lap. He’s pretty useless for doing research on the case as a dog, can’t seem to focus on anything for more than a few seconds, so he’s been banished to the bed to watch TV.

It’s embarrassing how gleefully he’d stopped on Animal Planet.

“You okay?” Sam asks, drawing Dean out of his canine-brooding once again, and Dean tries for a smile this time.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m… this is fine. Totally normal. I feel totally normal.” Dean waves him off, the hand motion awakening his need for scratching again. He tucks his hand up under his t-shirt and scritches at his tummy.

“Anything I can do?” Sam closes the laptop and stands up, his long legs carrying him across the motel room to perch on the bed across from Dean, so close their knees are almost touching. There’s no mocking on his face, no humor, and Dean swears he hasn’t looked this sweet and open since he was in fourth grade.

He shifts on the bed, tugging on his jeans to adjust himself as discreetly as possible.

“Dunno,” Dean admits, glancing up into Sam’s eyes and giving him a shrug. “Just feel kinda weird, I guess. Like I don’t know what to do with myself or somethin’.”

“Weird doggie urges?” A tiny smile tugs at Sam’s pink mouth.

Another shrug, and Dean has to look away again. He puppy-whimpers when he feels another hand join his own under his shirt, longer, stronger fingers stroking over his stomach, nails stroking him in slow circles.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Dean groans, flopping back on the mattress and letting his eyes fall closed. 

He sprawls out in an elated puddle, his tummy pushing up and into Sam’s hand as Sam shoves Dean’s shirt up and switches beds to sit beside him so he can really pet him.

“Sammyyyy. So good to me, babe,” Dean mumbles, his tongue heavy and lolling out against his lips, his whole body stretched out; arms flung over his head, legs spread where they’re hanging off the bed.

Sam’s hand feels like fucking magic.

“Is this seriously making you hard?” Sam laughs, not stopping even as he draws attention to the insistent push of Dean’s cock against the inside of his jeans. He’s only half-hard, but he’s definitely on his way, and he doesn’t have it in him to feel embarrassed about any of it.

This is his brother, after all.

“Lower,” he grunts, pushing his hips up, sliding a hand down to paw at his own belt, suddenly struck with the inability to use his fingers. Sam yanks Dean’s belt until it clinks loose, and his button and zipper get worked open fast, jeans tugged down and--

“Ohhhh. Good boy, Sammy. Good boy.”

“That’s my line,” Sam mumbles, sounding farther away now, and Dean knows why the second he feels that hot mouth wrap around his prick.

 _Shoulda known you two were freaks_ , comes Colonel’s unhelpful voice.

“Go back to sleep, dude,” Dean groans, one hand pushing down into Sam’s mass of hair while the other arm gets thrown across his face as his cheeks heat up. Of course a dog’s gonna watch him fuck his brother’s face. Of course.

Sam pulls up off of his cock, a little breathless, mouth dripping spit back onto Dean’s cock.

“What?” he asks.

Dean sighs.

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you. C’mon, Sammy. You know how much I love that fuckin’ mouth--”

 _I can lick my own--_ Colonel starts.

Sam takes Dean all the way down his big boy throat, something he mastered at the tender age of thirteen, and Dean nearly sobs. He clamps a hand down on the back of Sam’s neck and fucks up, smashing Sam’s face into his pubes as he grinds down his throat, shivering for each gag, each hard swallow. It’s all for show, and Dean loves him even more for it.

He flat-out whines when Sam pulls off again, leaving his dick all slimy and dripping wet and swaying near his fuck-soft mouth. Dean moves his arm and glares up at him, flushed-face and needy and he ain’t too proud to beg. Or heel. Or roll over.

Sam’s on his feet, and Dean can only watch as he makes quick work of his own jeans and underwear, tugging off his shirt and leaving himself gorgeously naked, his own dick mostly hard just from sucking cock and disgustingly huge, the one thing that truly has the ability to make Dean beg for mercy. But he knows that look on Sam’s face. That’s not what this is gonna be.

Sammy looks shy, like he’s second guessing whatever decision he’s just made, but he turns away from Dean anyway, presenting him with his back and the narrow nip of his hips and his tight forever-boy ass and--

“Oh, yeah,” Dean growls, launching himself up from the bed and sinking to his haunches on the carpet behind his brother.

Normally he’d been back here for one reason and one reason only, but his nose has been going wild ever since the spell kicked in, and every since Colonel brought it up, the obsession’s been quietly growing.

He closes his eyes and lowers his face, not stopping until his nose is tucked cleanly between Sam’s asscheeks. He takes a full, deep breath that has him quaking right there on his knees, his hands having to come up to grab Sam’s thighs to steady himself.

It’s not what he expected, the butt sniffing thing. He always thought maybe dog’s just smelled ass and that was it, but this is… this is a roadmap to Sam Winchester. He smells like chicken-club-sandwich-for-lunch, like as-good-as-married-and-always-have-been, like worried-and-tired-but-desperate-to-get-fucked. All of it. All right here.

Fucking amazing.

“Mine,” Dean gruffs out, exhaling loud against Sam’s skin and shoving in deeper to sniff even harder, nosing around and rubbing his face against Sam’s hole before he just can’t stop himself any longer. Chemistry’s over. It’s time for fuckin’ Biology now.

He paws Sam’s cheeks apart and dives in with the flat, sopping wet of his tongue, licking straight up from Sam’s taint to his tailbone, not pausing when he lowers his head to go back for more. He slops at his asshole, his cock dripping all over the carpet while he licks his brother out, savoring every shocked, guttural noise Sam strains out. Sam’s leaning forward more and more and more until he’s got his hands on the opposite bed and he’s all but presented to Dean, ass up, ready to be bred.

Fuck knows Dean was born for this, dog or not.

Dean doesn’t realize how rough he’s being, how feral and graceless until he catches himself pressing up flat against Sam’s back and digging against him, not stopping until Sam falls against the side of the bed, his ass right on the edge, knees not quite able to touch the ground.

“Easy,” Sam says, quiet and soothing, his hand back to rub at Dean’s still-clothed flank, giving his hip a squeeze through his layers. “Easy, boy.”

Dean grunts, not using his hands for anything but holding Sam down with a firm clamp on the back of the neck and to push at the small of his back to get his ass up. His dick nudges between Sam’s cheeks, his hips shoving forward impatiently as he seeks out his hole, searching and searching until finally the tip catches on it.

He lets out a hard huff, his chest and belly pressed tight against Sam’s back.

“Go slow,” Sam reminds him, a precious note of panic in his voice. “That’s a good boy--”

Dean shoves forward, straining his hips against Sam’s ass until he breaks through, only the barest amount of drying spit easing the way into his brother’s unprepped ass. Sam cries out loud enough to startle Colonel a few feet away, and Dean feels a nasty-dark bloom of possessiveness at the thought of Colonel wanting to go next.

“ _Mine_ ,” Dean snarls again, reminding everyone in the room, just in case the message was lost somewhere. Sam’s thrashing beneath him, trying to get away from the dry, sinking invasion of Dean’s cock, trying to find a position that makes it hurt less.

Unluckily for Sam, Dean’s body doesn’t really care right now.

He fucks at him furiously, snapping his hips forward with a desperation he can only recall feeling when he was a teenager or when he hasn’t had his hands on his little brother in a few days or weeks or years. Hours, who the fuck is he kidding.

“Baby,” Dean breathes against Sam’s ear, dripping saliva all over his cheek and his neck in between nips to his skin and wet, pleased licks, and he knows it’s only because of this spell and because he’s a dirty fuck, but he swears to Christ he can feel a knot growing at the base of his dick, that it’s catching on Sam’s punished-pink rim and stretching him out so much that Sam’s making some gorgeous, high-pitched little sounds, his big hands wrapped up in the cheap blanket, pulling so hard he’s ripping the fabric.

“Gonna knot you, little brother,” Dean warns him, teeth dragging over Sam’s neck, over the thick meat of his shoulder, and he bares his teeth and sinks them right into that tensed muscle when he pushes into Sam one last time and starts to pump him full, his balls and taint pulsing so hard Dean can feel each and every contraction, can feel the way he’s coming inside of his baby brother.

He ruts into him nice and savage, groaning around his clamped-down bite on Sam’s shoulder for the way Sam tenses inside, for the way he shudders underneath him, for the way he knows his slutty little Sam is coming untouched for being fucked up by the ass by his dog-possessed brother.

“Good little bitch,” Dean sighs blissfully when he finally loosens his jaw, letting his tongue slide out to tender the deep hurt of the bitemark on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and he feels his dick shudder when he tastes blood.

“Stay in me?” Sam says from beneath him, sounding so young with pain and with being so thoroughly sated, his hands rubbing at Dean’s arms that are now wrapped around his waist, hugging him close from behind. “Pretend you’re really knotting me and that I’m really gonna--”

“Who said anything about pretending?” Dean whispers in his ear just to feel Sam shiver, just to feel the flutter-pulse of his guts around his slowly softening dick. He shoves up inside of Sam until Sam has no choice but to let himself be guided by that cock and shift up onto the bed properly, not stopping until he’s turned the right way and his face is buried in the pillows.

Dean stretches out prone on top of him, dick buried in Sam’s pinked cream ass, and he’s stroking his hair back now as he lavishes kisses all over the backs of his shoulders and his neck, worshipping lovingly because Sam took him so good, because he’s working hard inside to make sure his load takes.

 _Y’all would have the weirdest lookin’ puppies,_ Colonel remarks. 

He dodges the pillow Dean throws at him.


End file.
